Teenage Dream
by Measured
Summary: Silly Glee fusion AU. Ike finds his life taking odd turns after saving an aloof boy from another school, who happens to be on a rival Glee club. Ike/Soren eventual, Boyd/Mist, Tibarn/Reyson, Tormod/Sothe, Kyza/Ranulf/Lyre triangle, Nailah/Rafiel, etc
1. Chapter 1

Title: Teenage Dream (1/?)  
Series: FE9 AU~  
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren eventual, Tibarn/Reyson, Kyza/Ranulf/Lyre triangleish, Boyd/Mist, Tormod/Sothe, Pelleas/Micaiah, etc.  
Rating: PG-13  
Author's note: For Ammy, in the most recent FE_exchange as an extra. I mean, what else could I get with a prompt that used Teenage Dream by Darren Criss? Though technically, she's been encouraging the Glee/FE thing I was doing for ages.

**.**

Ike didn't usually hang out with the Dalton crowd. They had trust funds, he barely made ends meet. They had suits and shiny shoes and he had ripped jeans and dirty sneakers. It just so happened that he was going that way that day, because Ike was manly enough to get 'girly things' for his sister at out of the way stores without even a flinch. Ranulf was in awe of him for things like that. Something about 'unparalleled awesome' or other. It just so happened that was where he was headed, with chocolate and 'girly things' on a mental list of things to get unless he wanted things thrown at him, when he caught sight of a short boy was being shoved into a fence. The guy wasn't even a Dalton guy either, but one that Ike butted heads with on a pretty regular basis.

"Cough it up, Ice Prince," the guy said. The so-called Ice Prince glared at him, lifting his chin defiantly. His head almost came up to the guy's thick chest.

"No," the boy said. "Now unhand me, you neanderthal."

"Jarod, let him go," Ike said.

Jarod looked back. "Mind your own business, heroboy," he muttered. He hadn't taken his hands off the Dalton boy, so Ike helped him with that by yanking on his shoulder.

"I said step off," Ike said. "In case you didn't hear me the first time."

"I heard you," Jarod said. "What are you going to do if I _don't_, huh?"

For a moment they faced each other down. Jarod made many a nerd quiver, but Ike wasn't even remotely a nerd. A's were a mythical thing he assumed only existed in fairy tales – even meeting real valedictorians couldn't shake that belief. Ike had an intense look which had many a person step down in whatever slushee-involved things they were going to do. Ranulf was always riffing him on this, but it was actually his default look.

Jarod wasn't a wimp either. He looked appraisingly at the boy, then back to Ike. Whatever his decision, it wasn't to fight now. He stepped back, giving the boy one last look.

"I know where you live," Jarod said. "I can get that money anytime I want."

He snapped, his teeth clicking as he gave his best crazy _I will end you_ expression.

The boy crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Is that all? I've seen better. Your threats and homicidal expressions could use serious work."

Ike had stepped up beside him, ready to put a hand in front of him, just in case. Ike had to give it to the guy, he had guts.

"You can come out now, Pelleas," the boy said. A rumbled boy with wavy dark blue hair and a Dalton uniform came out from behind the trees. He brushed the leaves from his hair and looked up, a bit pitifully.

"I still think we could've worked together, Soren," Pelleas said. "Two against one."

Soren rolled his eyes. "Really, Pelleas? I can't believe I didn't think of it myself. I'm sure quantity would trump physical mass."

"You could've distracted him...I could've tackled him..." Pelleas began.

"Yes, and I'm sure this would bring about a fine career in professional football for you. Honestly, Pelleas, if we could've taken him down, father wouldn't have disowned us."

"True..." Pelleas admitted.

"Your _muse_ and her ideas of 'positive thinking' are flawed," Soren said. "Here's hoping next time she'll be the one to save you. Possibly with the power of her _mind_, all things considered."

Pelleas' shoulders slumped.

Now that Jarod was gone, he could get a good look at Soren. His hair was long and dark, pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes were pure red, narrowed in a cynical manner, as if he only saw the worst in people. He was slight with a small bone structure and angular features. Pelleas looked downright large and gawky beside him. In fact, had he not been in a uniform, and been referred to as a 'prince', Ike might've mistaken him for a girl at that distance.

Ike cleared his throat. "You want me to walk you guys home?" Ike asked.

"Uh—" Pelleas said, giving Ike an awkward, deer-in-the-headlights look, as if he had just that moment realized he was there.

"No," Soren said. "We can make it on our own. Thank you for your...assistance."

"No problem," Ike said.

They started down the path, and Ike walked too, because it was on his way, and Ike wasn't about to cross the street to give them space when it was on his way. About five minutes later, Soren turned and narrowed his eyes at Ike.

"While I appreciate your _ persistence,_ I remind you that we no longer need your assistance," Soren said coldly.

"It's on my way," Ike said.

"Nice to know, but I still don't need a knight-in-shining-armor," Soren said.

"No, I mean I'm going to a convenience store up here."

"Oh," Soren said. He didn't say anything else, but turned on his heel, his long black hair tossed up in the heat of the moment and the – what would he call it, a flounce? For a moment Ike was fascinated by this 'Soren', who could stare down bullies and helpers alike, and set world records in rudeness.

Then he remembered mundane things, like that his sister would throw things at him if he forgot her girly stuff, and that the game was on tonight. He walked on home, with thoughts of Soren only faint in the back of his mind.

**.**

Ike breathed on his hands as he made his way out the door, groggy with a bagel in his mouth which was the closest thing he'd get to breakfast until he could snag something from one of the fast food places on the way. Ike was not a morning person, in the least. Mist was perky and clad in a bright yellow sundress, holding hands with Boyd as she was practically skipping along. She'd already had two cups of tea, and breakfast, and had enough time to style her hair. She never bothered with makeup after a nice young lady with silver hair handed out flyers pointing out that it was cruelly tested on animals.

Ranulf would always join them eventually, and by the time Ike had snarfed down his bagel, Ranulf was chatting away with Boyd. Ike started humming to himself at first. He thought of black hair, a defiant gaze. Without even realizing it, he started singing as he walked in his husky baritone.

_"Yeah you, got that something, I think you'll understand. When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand."_

"Whoa, whoa. Wait up! You're in _love_!" Ranulf crowed.

"What?" Ike said.

"You're spontaneously singing a love song! A classic one I might add. Nice choice. Put it up."

Ike lifted his hand, made a fist and returned the brofist in the most confused manner.

"Didn't you read the sign on the wall in front of the classroom?" Ike said.

"Surgeon General's Warning: 'Joining The Glee Club may cause you to spontaneously burst into song, and get slushees thrown into your face'," Ranulf recited. "You do know that I'm the one who put it up, right?"

"Figured so," Ike said.

"I know, right? Totally smacks of my brilliance," Ranulf said.

Ike hadn't in fact, had much of an issue with slushees being thrown in his face. One brave soul, a fellow football member had thrown one in his face, and had gotten bones broken in the process. To be fair, Ike's eyes had been burning from the slushee attack and he couldn't see at the time. He hadn't meant to push him that hard into the lockers, hard enough to crack ribs and break his left arm, thus keeping the would-be bully off the lineup for more than a month.

After that, any bullies kept away from Ike, or anyone Ike felt protective about, which was pretty much everyone. People began to coordinate their schedules so they could nonchalantly follow after Ike like a very large game of conga that happened to contain most of the slushee victims of the school.

"So there's no one at all, really?" Ranulf pressed.

"Nope," Ike said.

Kyza and Lyre had fought to carry Ranulf's books, but Kyza had won because he was built like a _Mack truck_ even if Lyre could scratch like a pro, she just couldn't compete with someone who could pick her up and hold her at a distance while she shrieked and yowled to be put down. So it was Kyza who carried Ranulf's books, doing what was best described as a 'strut'. Lyre hung back with Ike's eternal conga-line of geeks who sought the protection of his broad shoulders from the threat of slushees or swirlies.

"I'm watching you, man," Ranulf said. "The first hint of a crush, and we're going on double dates before you even know it. I'll be giving you advice – man, it's going to be awesome," Ranulf said.

"I call dibs on dating Ranulf!" Lyre cried.

"No fair, I saw him first!" Kyza said. "I work harder than you. The closest you get to studying is stealing my notes, which I painstakingly took."

"You're no fun," Lyre said, sticking out her tongue. "Also I have boobs. Boobs always win."

"She does make a persuasive argument," Ranulf said with a grin.

Kyza looked indignant.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding, my man," Ranulf said, and patted Kyza on the shoulder.

Lyre looked indignant.

"Uh, you guys can both come?" Ranulf ammended.

They looked somewhat mollified by this.

"Somehow I'm not surprised that any double date would turn into a bloodbath," Ike said.

"Hey, hey, now. Any double date with me would turn into like something like _The Hangover_ – except like, more awesome," Ranulf said. "Get it straight man. Or not."

Ike laughed.

**.**

Reyson sat in his office, sipping at his breakfast of a berry and nut shake. It was agreed that for the sake of their relationship, he would eat his vegan, green, Earth-friendly shake and he would eat his Suffering Of Animals Burger apart, and neither would comment on the 'unmanly veganness' or 'slaughtering of their animal friends' afterwards.

His meal was interrupted by an apology, as another lost soul came to sit before him and seek guidance.

"What seems to be the problem?" Reyson asked.

"I get slushees thrown in my face," confessed Rhys. He looked on the verge of breaking down.

"...You're the school nurse," Reyson said.

"My past of getting thrown in dumpsters has come to haunt me," Rhys said sadly. "I just have a face that attracts slushees like it has a gravitational field."

Reyson folded his hands and regarded Rhys. "I think the best course of action is to punch them in the face."

"What?" Rhys said, looking confused. "You want me to resort to physical violence?"

"Or get your boyfriend to do it. That's another option," Reyson said.

"I...I don't have a boyfriend," Rhys said.

"Well there's a place to start," Reyson said. "Get a buff one, or one especially proficient in martial arts." He then returned to the shake, dismissing Rhys with a regal flip of his hand. Rhys left, looking just as confused as he had before. Another problem fixed, Reyson thought.

Tibarn made his way in, smiling at Rhys as he did. Reyson narrowed his eyes and make a mental note to visit the nurse's office and inform him that he wasn't going to share Tibarn, and that he'd have to find his own damn boyfriend.

"What is this I hear about punching people in the face?"

"I can never hide anything around you, can I?" Reyson said.

"Not with Ulki as my helper, you can't," Tibarn said.

"I love it when you're violent," Tibarn said. He reached out to touch Reyson's long, flowing blond hair. He twirled a lock around one of his fingers and lifted it to his mouth in a kiss.

"I wouldn't want you getting fired, however," he noted.

"_Please,"_ Reyson scoffed. "With Oliver as the principal, I could start taking hits out on troublesome children and he'd still sing my praises."

Tibarn smiled. "You know, there's a janitor's closet which should be unoccupied about now."

"Aren't you the romantic one?" Reyson said dryly.

"I try my best," Tibarn said.

**.**

The Glee club lounged around, waiting for their teacher. Ranulf was relating an anecdote, gesturing with his hands often as he stood on one of the folding chairs. He had borrowed one of Kyza's glittery tank tops with _69_ on it, which was so big it almost covered up his cut-off jeans. Ike was in faded, ripped jeans and his favorite team's shirt, and was half paying attention, while Boyd and Mist held hands, thankful for the distraction of her ever overprotective older brother. Heather was braiding Nephenee's hair, using every possible chance to touch her, and there were quite a few. Nephenee, for her part, looked up, flustered at the attention. Heather had on many gold bangles, and a purple tube top, which was currently pushed to Nephenee's back Elincia sat regally in the middle, her gaze occasionally working back towards Ike. Geoffrey was on one side, Lucia on the other. They wore matching white suits, and looked like her personal bodyguards. Sothe was wearing a green corset, considerable amount of guyliner and mesh detachable sleeves, and black nailpolish. He was ignoring everyone with his mp3 player blasting screamo emo songs. Tormod had on red hot pants, a Fantastic Four t-shirt with Johnny Storm on the cover, and was trying to make a heart with his lighter and the flames, but the lighter kept flicking out from overuse.

"Tormod, put your lighter away before you burn up the classroom. Again," Tibarn said.

"I thought you said you wanted us to set this place on fire?" Tormod said.

"Not literally," Tibarn said. "I meant...with music."

Ranulf turned around, his story cut off with Tibarn's arrival. "Nice sex hair, boss."

Tibarn ran his hands through his hair and smirked. "It's naturally like that."

"Suuuure it is," Ranulf said. He jumped down from the chair, and then sat down, draping over Kyza as he did.

"Ok club—" Tibarn reached to his pack pocket.

"Sothe. Give back my wallet, and my sunglasses."

Sothe rolled his heavily eyelined eyes and pulled them out from his parachute pants which had many, many pockets in them. No one informed him that parachute pants had gone out of style years ago – well, except for Kyza – but Sothe considered himself a rebel by wearing a green corset and shoplifting from Hot Topic.

He threw the wallet and sunglasses over, and Tibarn caught them in mid air, and put the wallet in his back pocket , and the glasses on his face. He usually wouldn't be taken by a little angsty whelp, but he'd assumed someone going around his back pocket was just Reyson. admiring his... assets.

"You'll get extra points if you steal from Yune, by the way," Tibarn said.

Sothe smirked. "Consider it already done...literally."

"Gold star, Sothe. Gold star," Tibarn said. "So, club, what are we going to do today?"

"Take over the world?" Sothe said.

"Kick their asses...with music?" Tormod said.

"Dress like Lady Gaga?" Kyza said.

"All of the above?" Ranulf said.

"Not good enough!" Tibarn bellowed. "We are going to rip out their intestines and make them into festive bows! _All with the power of music!_"

"Cooooool," Tormod said.

"Can we do it while dressing like Lady Gaga?" Kyza asked.

"...Sure, why not?" Tibarn said.

"_Yes!_" Kyza and Ranulf high-fived.

"Now club members. Remember to be violent with your F notes, and most of all be _festive_."

"In a violent manner?" Boyd asked.

"Yes," Tibarn said. "Aggressively festive. Ok, so—" Tibarn frowned at the ringtone which had a soft love song, as opposed to his usual _Fly Like An Eagle_ ringtone. That was Reyson's personal one. He looked put up a finger and checked the readout unnecessarily.

"I know you were all looking forward to a song and dance routine, but I got called for an emergency encore, so I'm leaving today's homework for everyone to get their entries ready for our next sectionals practice."

"You're living the dream, my man. Put it up," Ranulf said.

They high-fived as Tibarn went out for his encore.

"So, you guys up for robbing banks?" Tormod said. "I'm up for robbing banks if you guys are."

Tibarn peeked back in. "No robbing banks. Or burning things. Or pimping yourself out on street corners." He looked meaningfully at Sothe. Sothe rolled his eyes. "Janaff will have his eyes on you, and Ulki will notice if you start getting your blowtorches out."

"Aww man," Tormod said.

Instead, they huddled about, trading songs and then yelling obscenities so violent, they would've made Tibarn proud, had he actually been there.

**.**

It was a pretty big surprise to see Soren standing ramrod straight, occasionally looking to his watch and frowning. Well, not the frowning part. Ike had a feeling Soren did a lot of that. But the actually there, in front of the door like he was waiting for someone part. That was surprising. Ike didn't really hold grudges, and he didn't think Soren would be there for anyone else, so he jogged on over, his bag of books hitting his legs with each stride.

Soren didn't smile when he saw Ike, but then Ike had this feeling that Soren smiling would be right up there with Daein becoming a tropical, Laguz-loving paradise.

"Hello," Soren said, somewhere between indifferent and out-and-out coldness. Ike didn't take it personally.

"Yeah, hey," Ike said. "Is something up?"

Soren shifted, seeming somewhere between uncomfortable, and hating everyone on principle.

"I have a proposition for you," Soren said.

"You mean like grammar stuff?" Ike asked.

"...that's preposition," Soren said. "I mean a deal."

"Oh," Ike said. "What do you have in mind?" He suddenly had an image of two Ranulfs, like the old picture of a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. One was saying _he's totally asking you on a date, my man!_ the other was saying _ you should totally hit it._ Somehow Ike wasn't surprised that both Ranulf's were urging him to get laid.

"Your earlier offer of walking me home...I'd like to take you up on it, and acquire your services as a bodyguard," Soren said. "Hopefully we can get the price squared away so I can draw up the contract."

"I don't demand pay. You could just join the rest," Ike said.

Soren raised one eyebrow. "The rest?"

Several of the lower nerd structure burst out and got within a certain distance, as if on cue. They ran out to him, and then struck casual poses, looking elsewhere as the bully in question came out.

"I see," Soren said. "Well, go on. Say it."

"What?" Ike said.

"The 'I told you so'," Soren said.

"For?"

"I've come to hire you to be my ersatz bodyguard."

"My what?" Ike said.

Soren took a deep breath. "I'm asking you to walk me home, and I'm prepared to compensate you. Thus, you would be my pseudo-bodyguard. Or more precisely, you'll be a bodyguard for both Pelleas and I."

The Ranulf on his right shoulder noted that Soren hadn't specified cash as his compensation. The other lifted one eyebrow and smirked. Then the two Ranulfs brofisted.

"Like I said, I don't ask for pay to help people," Ike said.

"I don't want to be indebted to you. Who knows what you might ask for," Soren said.

"Hate to break it to you, but I'm not into blackmail," Ike said.

"Surely," Soren said. "If not money, then...Your grades. What are they?"

"Uh...C's and D's? Why?"

"I won't promise miracles, but with hard work we may be able to get you a B yet," Soren said.

"Ok," Ike said. "I guess..."

"All right," Soren said. "I'll meet you tomorrow in the library thirty minutes after school."

"Gotcha," Ike said.

"Don't be late," he said. With that, Soren nodded and left without any further words of goodbye, and Ike was left feeling a little dazed in his wake. Soren was the most brusque person he had encountered, even more than himself.

It was after Soren had turned on his heel and left that Ike thought they should've exchanged cell phones numbers — even if Ike kept his phone off most of the time and generally forgot to turn it back on, only to find a gazillion missed calls, mostly from Ranulf and often beginning with 'Dude, bro'.

**.**

She looked about five, but claimed to be an ancient goddess of Chaos And Doom. Then again, she claimed a lot of things. She had long curly hair which nearly dragged on the floor, and had a penchant for wearing neon jumpsuits. She also hated Tibarn. She hated a lot of people, granted, but she seemed to take a special hate of Tibarn. According to her, his sex hair kept reminding her that she wasn't getting laid, given that she looked like a five year old and most people were afraid of getting a trip in a party van and being told to 'have a seat over there'.

"Hello, meatbag," she said, looking up and glaring at him.

"Hi sweetie," Tibarn said. "Isn't it your naptime?"

"I'm going to steal Kyza," she said. "He will be perfect for our cheerios, _you bag of flesh_ and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Nothing? Really?" Tibarn smirked.

"You can try all you want, you ass pirate," she said.

"I'm wearing my pirate hat tomorrow, just for that," Tibarn said. "Also—" He dialed a number he had on speed dial and put it on speakerphone, just for that.

"Hello, Ranulf?"

"Suppppp!"

"I need you to put your sexiness on full throttle," Tibarn said.

"Exactly the same, then," Ranulf said.

"Dress like Sothe if you need to. I'll even let you have met schedule in the janitor's closet if need be."

"So you want me to dress like a rentboy with an 80's fashion sense who thinks he's ironic but really just looks ridiculous? Can do, boss."

Yune narrowed her eyes. She knew as well as Tibarn that Reyson could do no wrong in Oliver's eyes, and it would take just one meeting in the principal's office to get things working his way.

Yune put her hands on her nonexistent hips. She didn't even come up to Tibarn's knees, so it was hard to deliver her death glare when even craning her neck back meant she could only see his crotch.

"If you're declaring war, missy, I think it's past your bedtime," Tibarn said.

"I _invented_ war because I was bored!" She said, looking on the verge of a tantrum.

"Sure, sure, and Al Gore invented the internet," Tibarn said.

They both stalked off to their separate corners. Tibarn smirked, and did his victory strut, but little did he know, this was only the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Teenage Dream (2/?)  
Series: FE9 AU~  
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren eventual, Tibarn/Reyson, Kyza/Ranulf, Boyd/Mist,  
Word count: 3070  
Rating: PG-13  
Author's note: It's a bit late, but, happy birthday, guety!

**.**

Kyza was a delicate flower, the kind of boy who wore mohair sweaters with ballet flats to school. Boys like him usually got their heads shoved in toilets. Except that Kyza was also 6'3 and had the well-toned body of a wrestler. He in fact, had been on the wrestling team at one point. Seeing the way their team was faltering, Ranulf had sweet-talked him over to the football side. And Kyza was ever so weak to being sweet-talked, _especially_by Ranulf.

However, Kyza did not mesh well with the team. He was from another world. A world of trips to the Sephora, Drag Races with RuPaul, America's Top Model and full of mysteries the boys did not want to consider. A world that was covered in glitter, and bursting with rainbows and wearing the entire Gucci fall line. The football team was not interested in his fabulous sequin-covered utopia.

Kyza had been happily bringing out his plans for a new sleeker, more fabulous uniform when he was interrupted with a snigger.

"Great, so we can all take it up the ass," said one boy.

"Ass, heheh, that's a good one, Jarod. He's lame. Almost as lame as that _jacket_, am I right?" Said his sycophantic lackey.

A few boys chuckled. Kyza turned a shade of purple he would have identified as puce. The boys would have simply called it purple, because finer colors like mauve and puce were incomprehensible to them.

"Hey big guy..." Ranulf said.

"Don't stop me, Ranulf," Kyza said.

He stomped out to a chorus of chortles. Ranulf shook his head and frowned at the group.

"Guys, that was our best running back. We've got a snowball's chance in hell of winning now. Let's just hope I can convince him back, otherwise, we're back to having a really fabulous wrestling team," Ranulf said.

They were not swayed. They laughed amongst themselves, except Ike who had come in late and still wasn't exactly sure what the hell just happened. Most boys who came in late would have hickies on their neck, but Ike had the tell-tale signs of barbeque on his chin.

"Where's Kyza?" Ike said.

"They insulted his fabulousness. Now they're going to feel his wrath," Ranulf said.

"What kind of wrath could a _fairy_ like that have?" Said one.

"This can't go well," Ike said. Ranulf nodded ruefully.

And it didn't. All too soon they found out just how wrathful he could be. Just as they were warming up, they saw coming across the field a puce avenger. He was carrying the entire slushie machine above his head as if it weighed no more than an actual slushie in a plastic cup.

"Go ahead, insult me all you want but _you do not insult my Marc Jacobs coat!_" he bellowed. Then he threw the slushie machine and stalked off the field as a grapey, sweet, gold rain fell over the entire team, except Ranulf, and Ike who happened to have been near Ranulf at the time.

Ranulf ran after him. It took a promise of a date before he'd even _think_ of returning.

After that, if anyone had anything to say about Kyza or his attire, they said it very quietly, or perhaps not at all.

**.**

Ike looked at the clear blue watch he'd gotten on sale for five gald. It might have not been designer, for which Kyza would snort and jerk his tail in irritation, but it suited Ike just fine.

"Well, I've got to hit it," Ike said.

"Hit what?" Ranulf said eagerly. "A little bird told me you're seeing a Dalton boy."

"Janaff?" Ike asked.

"I don't disclose my sources," Ranulf said. "You know, I bet he's a spy."

"Janaff's a spy now?" Ike said.

"_No_. Though that would be hot. I mean the Dalton boy. He's probably here to _seduce you_ to the dark side with his shiny shoes and dashing good looks."

"Uh, yeah. Have you ever met him?" Ike said. "I'm not sure the word is even in his vocabulary."

Well, truth be told it was in his vocabulary, along with a lot of other big words, but it certainly didn't get a lot of use, unless he was doing historical essays on the heron Lehran.

"So you're not affected by him at all? You're saying he doesn't make you spontaneously burst into classic love songs?" Ranulf asked.

"The Beatles are catchy," Ike said. He gathered up his bag, and checked to make sure his barbeque-flavored chips weren't made crumbly by his textbook.

"When I prove you wrong, I'm going to make you sing and dance in front of the whole school," Ranulf said. "Just you watch."

"...Ranulf, I already do that every day. I'm part of Glee club," Ike said.

"Well, yeah," Ranulf said. "Ok, fine. You'll have to serenade him. My choice of music."

"Miley Cyrus and the deal is off," Ike said. "I'm still recovering from Mist's Hannah Montana phase."

"_Yeaaaaaah!_" Ranulf sang out.

Ike glared. "Seriously. Not cool."

"Fiiiine. I'll just choose it from Kyza's stash of Beyoncé, Lady Gaga and Katy Perry," Ranulf called as Ike made it towards the door.

Ike was already off though, and made no other comment. Ranulf grinned to himself. He couldn't tell which would be better, Ike belting out 'Single Ladies', or convincing him to deck out in Lady Gaga apparel and get him to sing the line _I wanna take a ride on your diso stick_.

Ah, the choices.

**.**

Tibarn noticed him right away. That slimy bastard in that stupid, sexy leather ensemble. His dark blue hair was slicked back, he was wearing the Dalton colors of red edges on his modified leather jeacket, even if Dalton was supported by Ashnard, who probably ate babies for breakfast. _Laguz babies_, for that matter.

This was not surprising, given his history. Also, he was Reyson's ex, which gave Tibarn even more reason to hate him.

He was talking to a tiny, cranky looking Dalton student. After an exchange of sheet music, the student left, with one last suspicious glance. Smart kid, Tibarn thought. When the kid was out of sight, Tibarn stepped forward. His arms were crossed and eyes narrowed at the stupid sexy traitor in question.

"Oh, hello," Naesala said, smiling like he'd just deflowered someone.

"Go fuck yourself, you traitor," Tibarn grated out.

"I already did today, but thank you for your concern," Naesala said silkily.

"How can you work for Dalton? This is a new low, even for you!"

Naesala shrugged. "The paycheck was rather nice, and they have very nice uniforms. Not every place lets me wear leather to work."

Tibarn took comfort in the fact that Reyson would've been unhappy about the use of animal products.

"You'd trade your pride as a laguz in for leather jackets?"

Naesala shrugged. "I have enough pride in myself to spare. Besides, leather is one weakness I'll admit to. And being too alluring for my own good."

"Really? That's all you can think? I'll add some more to your list of weaknesses. For one, you're insufferable, you're skeevy, you're so-so football – also, you're a _traitor._" Tibarn counted them down on his large fingers, glaring down at Naesala all the while.

"You keep saying that word as if I care. Ah... but look at the time. I must be going. Send my regards to Reyson," Naesala said.

Naesala said _regards_ like he was already undoing the zipper on Reyson's back – like he was already halfway (or more) into the seduction.

**.**

Ike was pretty prompt, considering, but Soren was already there when he arrived, looking as if he'd been there for some time. Soren had a way of making one feel like they were horribly late even if it'd only been a case of five minute running-into-Ranulf lateness.

Beside him was some sheet music, and he was looking over the lines. Ike stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. He had on a pair of glasses, in an oval shape. He still wore the Dalton uniform, with black blazer edged in red, and red and black striped tie. He was surprised, not for the first time, just how utterly tiny Soren was. He'd seen herons bulkier than he was. Granted, they were Reyson, who had hung around Tibarn so much that he'd picked up a few things. Such as liking to watch wrestling.

Soren looked back and frowned. "You're late."

"Sorry, Ranulf kept me a bit. You're in a Glee club?"

Soren nodded.

"I really didn't think you were the type," Ike said.

"I'm not. I consider it a moment of immature teenage rebellion," Soren said. "I mostly prefer to sing activist songs preferred by hippies. It causes the best reactions."

"Huh," Ike said. "I guess that would do it."

"Yes," Soren said. He shifted his gaze down, and cleared his throat. "What classes did you need help with?"

Ike pulled out his books. Upon opening the first math textbook, he noted on the inside cover there was several phone numbers with hearts across them. They were even color coded for convenience.

"I think Ranulf must've borrowed it," Ike said.

"Indeed," Soren said dryly.

He was about to ask about the difference between cosine and sine when he noticed by sheer accident, they'd both leaned in at the same time. Soren to better study the text he was using, and Ike to try and figure out why 'Marcia' had left her number in pink on his math textbook. They almost bumped heads.

"You smell great," Ike said.

Ike had a little problem. When he had a thought, he'd just blurt it out. He even failed the 'does my butt look fat in these pants' test from his sister. She didn't talk to him for a week after that, and declared he would never have a girlfriend ever. Ike was just fine with this, actually.

Soren looked at him suspiciously."Flattering me isn't going to avail you."

"I don't do stuff like that. Flattery and all. You just smell good," Ike said.

"Hmmm."

And he did. He didn't smell like strawberries, or the foofy, sparkle bath stuff his sister loved. Soren smelled like a barbeque. How he had managed it, Ike didn't know, but he really thought it should be bottled and sold. Eau de Barbeque. He'd buy it, even if it did make him hungry.

Soren began to read aloud about the Zunama, about the many conquests of the heron Lehran. These conquests were all battles without violence. He was a mediator, and apparently, really got around, considering these conquests seemed to often end up in his bed.

Ike leaned the table. "Are we going to be graded on how many partners this guy had?"

"Excuse me?" Soren said.

"I mean, do we have to remember it all? Like, 'it was Dheginsea in the bedroom with the palm frond'?"

Soren stared blankly at him. Apparently he'd never played Clue.

"It would depend on the test," he said finally. He flipped the page to the next, but was interrupted when Ranulf popped up out of nowhere, along with his entourage which made up of most of the Glee club.

"Whoa, hey– What are you doing here?" Ike asked.

"We are crashing your tryst, obviously," Ranulf said. "Checking on you and Juliet here, making sure you're ok and all. It's what good friends do."

Soren rolled his eyes. "Really, aren't you something."

"That I am," Ranulf said, with a grin.

"In fact, I'm such a something, that I think we've got a little song to help you on this _romantic getaway_ of a study session. Hit it, guys!"

"Don't know much about history," Ranulf started, snapping his fingers along. The rest of the group provided the beat.

"Don't know much biology," sang Nephenee.

"Don't know much about a science book," Tormod added. In truth, he hadn't, considering it had met an unfortunate fire related death and he'd been cribbing off of Sothe's the entire time.

"Don't know much about the French I took," Geoffrey added, in his smooth alto. Which was a lie, as he spoke it perfectly.

"But I do know that I love you," Tomod sang along. He grinned to Sothe.

"And I do know that if you loved me too, want a wonderful world it would be!" Kyza and Lyre sang in unison, in an obvious serenade.

Soren just stared at them as if they'd all escaped from a mental hospital.

"Hey, Ike, hit it. You know the lyrics I mean."

Ike looked blankly at him, until Ranulf leaned in and whispered them.

"Oh, those ones?"

"Yeah, those!" Ranulf said. "Show this stuffy Dalton kid what you've got! You aren't called 'the hero of Crimea' for nothing!"

"Uh, that was for football," Ike said.

"Singing, football, whatever," Ranulf said, dismissing it away.

Ike cleared his throat, and the beat started up again.

"Now I don't claim to be an "A" student, but I'm trying to be," he began, with a wobbly half smile. He looked as Soren as he sang. Soren looked withdrawn, in a sense that he was not quite as vicious as usual, but still suspicious, and pulling back from whatever this might be – trap or game, or even true serenade. Ike still soldiered on, singing the rest of the part with aplomb.

"So maybe by being an "A" student baby, I can win your love for me—"

The beat was cut off as the librarian stormed in. He was a crazed looking man in black caftan, with thinning, stringy hair and a pair of very small spectacles on his nose.

"Quiet you imbeciles! I am trying to study!"

Soren looked to the librarian.

"Weren't you supposed to be ensuring that _Master Pelleas_ passed Science?" Soren asked. He smirked, almost sadistically as the man's lip curled.

"Master Pelleas is busy! I am not subject to his every whim, and have jobs and experiments of my own! Like this here. Now you and your awful singing is making it so I can't even think! Begone, you!" Izuka screeched.

"We were just leaving," Soren said. "So in essence you wasted your breath. As per usual."

"Daaaaamn," Ranulf said. He made three snaps in the pattern of a z.

"That deserves a bump. Put it up!" Ranulf said. He held up his fist for a bump, and Soren simply stared, as if by doing this he had outed himself as having the IQ of an Amoeba. Ike bumped him – a proxy bump, because he knew that Ranulf would go all day waiting for his fist bump, even if it took following Soren around to get it.

Soren closed the textbook in a decisive manner, pushed it towards Ike, and turned on his heels.

Outside the library, the rest of the group filed out, some chastened by the stern librarian's glare, while others (such as Ranulf) had been kicked out of too many establishments to mind, and were in fact, likely adding it to the notch of places they had been booted out of by force.

"Hey, let's start up an encore," Ranulf said. He started out with the opening lyrics, smiling and Ike and Soren as he did. "Our whole universe was in a hot dense state–"

"Oh man, I love that show!" Tormod said he joined in, as the rest of the group provided the snaps, background music, invisible kazoos and air guitars. Tormod pulled a cartwheel, while Kyza proved that contrary to common cliches, dancing skills weren't innately connected to sexuality.

"When fourteen million years ago expansion started, wait–" Sothe added, giving Ike a sidelong glance.

"The Earth began to cool!" Tormod belted out.

"The autotrophs began to drool—" Lyre added.

"The Neanderthals developed tools–" Kyza sang.

"We built a wall (we built the pyramids!)," sang the whole group in a chorus.

"Math, science history, unraveling the mysteries–" Sothe and Tormad sang together.

And then they joined for the last _It all started with a big bang!_

Ike gave a Golf clap; Soren simply stared at them, completely unamused.

"You know, Kyza, I think he stole your bitchiness crown," Ranulf said.

"_Dammit_!" Kyza said. "I worked so _hard_ to attain that kind of gay guy bitchiness."

"It's ok, big guy," Ranulf said, and patted his shoulder. "You'll always be the most fabulous guy around."

**.**

"You've been sulking all day," Reyson said.

"Have not," Tibarn said, holed away in a corner of brooding and sulkdom.

"Have too!" Reyson declared. "You've even got the cheeto dust to prove it."

Tibarn looked down at his hands. They were coated in orange, radioactive looking dust. The evidence was irrefutable.

"I ran into Naesala today. He sends you 'regards'," Tibarn said.

"That's nice. I suppose that's why you're acting like a sullen child right now?"

Tibarn didn't reply. His mind was filled with calming pictures of Naesala's violent death. This was his happy place. Occasionally he added other people to be disemboweled, with their spines ripped out for some bitchin' necklaces.

Reyson crossed his arms. "You have no moral high ground here, considering he was your first too."

"He was a lot of people's first! Also, we were having a kegger contest in college, so it doesn't count," Tibarn said.

"Keep telling yourself that," Reyson said.

Tibarn didn't say anything. He was too busy imagining a clear pool in a beautiful forest, with Naesala's head being forced under the water again and again.

"I felt that," Reyson said, irritation growing in his voice.

There was a definitely downside to dating an empathetic species, Tibarn thought to himself. The sex might be awesome, but he'd never been able to check someone out or think of killing someone on the sly without Reyson finding out about it.

"By the way, I hope you enjoy the couch tonight," he said. He then stormed off. Herons were very good at storming off, Tibarn thought.

Tibarn shrugged it off and turned on the game. He could wait. The makeup sex was always worth the fights.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Teenage Dream (3/?)  
Series: FE9 AU~  
Character/Pairing: Ike/Soren eventual, Tibarn/Reyson, Kyza/Ranulf/Lyre triangleish, Boyd/Mist, Heather/girls, Heather/Nephenee, and starting from this chapter on: Mia/Rhys, Rhys Titania, Nailah/Rafiel, Geoffrey Elincia Ike  
Rating: PG-13  
Author's note: Charity auction fic update, done for Ammy (and because she needs a hug.) And yes, I'm still up for grabs if you wanna buy me. Go poke around my journal if you're interested.

** .**

Rhys looked around nervously before he snuck his way into the lunch room. Today, he managed to slip by the children, and not have any lunch throw in his face– or slushies, for that matter. He had also avoided having his lunch money taken, which was always a plus. Of course he splurged on the dessert once in a while. And milk. It didn't keep so well, and carrying around a silver flask gave people the wrong idea, even when he tried to explain.

Rhys sighed in relief as he made it through the doors. He was safe here. No student would dare defile their inner sanctum of the teacher's lounge. For one, Nailah, Titania, and Tibarn were all here. Nailah was best known for being the wrestling club's coach. She was also the physical education teacher, a job she split with Titania and Tibarn, because Principal Oliver thought it was a better idea than Tibarn's offer of 'mortal combat, last one standing gets the job.'

She wore her usual attire of a white wife beater (Rhys had never understood why they called them such) ripped up jeans and combat boots. She could've come without anything on, if she so chose. People did not general tell her what to do in any sense. She was a large woman, buff and beautiful, but she was also one of the last remaining wolf laguz. People did just not tell a werewolf what to do, unless they wanted their head bitten off...literally.

She took a drink, absently lifting an arm weight as she did. Tibarn gave her that competitive look, and held out his arm. "Arm wrestle?"

"If you want your arms ripped off, sure," she said.

He noticed another heron there he hadn't seen before in white robes. He looked down in a demure manner. "Please don't break arms this time," he said in a very soft voice.

"It isn't my fault he has bird bones," Nailah said.

They squared off, and gripped each other's hands for the match. It was a fairly even fight at first, with neither gaining on the other for long, until by sheer accident, Nailah's wife beater slipped down her shoulder, revealing quite a bit of her left breast. For one moment, Tibarn lapsed and she struck, pushing his arm and the rest of him down to the table.

"No fair," Tibarn muttered from his place on the table. Nailah was currently using his face as an elbow rest.

"I believe that is a new record," the heron said.

"Doesn't count if she cheated," Tibarn said, muffled from under her elbow.

"Quiet, loser," Nailah said.

"Hello," Rhys said. "I'm Rhys, the school nurse." He held out his hand to shake. The heron's hand was small and delicate, even moreso than himself, which was saying something.

"Oh, hello..." The heron said. "I am Rafiel."

Titania made her way in, her red hair looking glorious in the florescent lights.

Nailah raised her fist. "Bump one for the win? Us girls have to stick together." She grinned. Titania rolled her eyes halfheartedly and finally smiled, almost begrudgingly as she bumped Nailah's fist with her own.

Titania sat next to him, and Rhys felt his heart flutter. He tried not to blush like a schoolgirl, but he wasn't entirely sure he succeeded.

"You aren't having more trouble Rhys, are you?" Titania asked.

"What? Oh...it's not a big deal... Boys will be boys." He chuckled, weak, and tried to smile. It felt flat and transparent.

He thought to this morning, where one of the bullies had thrown him in the dumpster, and then locked him in the men's lavatory when he had climbed out. He had tried coming earlier, to miss the bullies, or at least have them done with their pranks and such so he could come on time. This only made them think they had more time to torment him.

He smiled shakily. "Really..."

"You know where I am. Call me if you need me, and I'll give them a talking to."

A talking to from Titania was no laughing matter. Melior High had been called The Lesbian School. It was in fact, why Heather had chosen to go there at all, eschewing chances at all girl boarding schools to get a glimpse of this mysterious place. She was more than a little disappointed to find that the term was an insult, simply because Melior High had some very buff women and very fragile men. Still, the girls were cute enough to keep her around.

As it was, Titania had never had much trouble coaching. Talking about her past in the miliary, and then taking the time in the first morning to do a demonstration with her axe on a straw dummy had given her team a very healthy respect of her. The sight of her throwing that axe, and hitting it from ten feet away, right in the groin area was enough to make even the worst bullies reconsider their stance of messing with teachers.

Nailah too, had very little issues in any of her classes. People might have made 'time of the month' jokes, but they were said very quietly, because everyone knew werewolves had a really keen sense of hearing.

Maybe if he was stronger he wouldn't be bullied despite being part of the school staff.

Maybe if he was stronger, she'd like him.

**.**

Rhys sighed as the bully came up, smirking with a slushie in hand. Really, bad things came in threes. He'd already been thrown in the dumpster and locked in the lavatory. It was only natural that the slushie would come. Ike was nowhere to be seen, so his very last hope was gone. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable, when he heard a _Hi-yaaaah!_

He opened his eyes, shocked to find the bully on the floor, most of the contents of the slushie spilled over himself and the floor around him.

A girl was standing on his chest, holding a kendo sword to his throat. She hand long purple hair flowing down her back and a black Wrestlemania shirt that was a bit too snug over her chest which had grown two cup sizes over the summer. She wore a pleated red and black plaid mini, and black stockings and what seemed to be arm warmers, which was perplexing as they did almost nothing to warm the arms, given that they were made of mesh.

He remembered now. She had wanted to start a kendo or fencing club, but hadn't had enough interest. So, she had settled for going under the tutelage of Nailah on the wrestling team, which had recently become coed.

He was twice her size, and yet when she sprang at him, she went straight for his core and pushed him to the ground.

"Geez, a little bully like that keeps you cowering?" she said.

"Ah...I don't quite have a lot of physical strength. I'm sorry. Even though I'm on the staff, the bullies seek me out."

"You're such a damsel," she said, one hand on her hip. "I'll just have to be your knight and protect you!"

He had often had dreams of Titania being his knight, whisking him away on a white horse and riding into the sunset. Even if he knew these dreams were foolish, because Titania had loved Ike's father – unrequited, but deeply — all up until the time when a special ops mission had gone wrong and he had died. Even now she grieved for him in her own subtle, composed way. And now this turn of fate had given him a knight in black mesh armor.

"Are you coming or not?" She demanded. "If I leave you alone, you'll just get beat up again."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I got lost in my thoughts," Rhys said meekly.

"See, that's your problem. Soren's too. Always stuck in your head and books and stuff."

"Ah, yes..." Rhys said. He chuckled in a nervous manner. So she took his hand, all but dragging him down the hallway to his office.

"Stick with me, kid. I'll keep you safe," she said.

Rhys was polite enough to not mention that he was at least ten years older than her.  
"I didn't get your name," Rhys said.

"Mia The Magnificent! Fencer, wrestler and fighter extraordinaire. I'm going to be the best, you know? Medals and the whole shebang."

"I see," Rhys said. "Thank you...Mia the Magnificent."

He was glad she was on his side. Especially as if she squeezed anymore, his wrist might break.

**.**

Fourth period language was bound to give everyone a headache, especially Tibarn. Day by day he trained his students like they were an army. He tried to use unorthodox methods to lighten up his class, such as casual speech and many insults and dirty words to keep their interest. When that didn't work, there was always subtle implications that he would chuck them out the window if they didn't get it right. Most teachers would have been suspended, but the principal was a heron fetishist, and he was dating a heron, so he pretty much could've gotten away with anything, even coming to school naked. Hell, knowing Principal Oliver, he might get a raise if he ever did that.

The confused student let out a squawk. Tibarn slammed his fist to the table. It creaked under the assault.

"My mother was a saint!"

"Uh, sorry?" Squeaked the student. "It's just, my vocal cords aren't–"

"If Reyson can learn modern tongue despite his hatred of it, then you young minds can bear a little hawk. Now do it again!"

The student cleared his throat and tried a shaky squawk. He looked up nervously, seeking Tibarn's approval.

"Better," Tibarn admitted. "Still, all of you are lily-livered cowards who are defiling the language! Now repeat after me: 'I will disembowel you, and turn your mother into a pie'"

Many voices squawked yet another defilement of his language.

"Your spine will be my new bling!"

Screeches this time. Tibarn rubbed at his temples.

"Uh, teacher, this looks like chicken scratch," said one student, looking down at his written test questions.

"For the last time, Billy, it's _Hawk scratch_. There is a difference."

Of course, being mistaken for or even compared to chickens was always a very offensive thing to his culture. They were very sensitive about this subject. So sensitive, in fact, that it often took a whole bucket of deep fried chicken wings to get over the slight.

However, there was no chance of chicken wings now (though damn if he didn't get a sudden craving) so he'd have to pick them up later, preferably when Reyson was not around so he wouldn't get the meat is murder glare.

"From the top: Mr. Naesala, I hope you die by impalement."

The chorus of screeches and squawks had never sounded so sweet to his ears as when they involved Naesala and horrific death.

**.**

Ike sidled up, with his plate of mystery Monday special. Only Ike was brave enough to try the so-called casserole and mystery meat. He was already considered brave around the school, but putting those two items of supposed 'food' on his plate alone vaulted into a legend.

"He can't be straight," Ranulf said.

"Nu-uh. Not with those lovely locks. Any girl would dump his ass for having better skin and hair than her," Kyza said.

"Who's what again?" Ike asked. He put some of the mystery food into his mouth, and most of the gym fell silent, waiting for him to spontaneously combust. When he did nothing of the kind, they started to return to their own gossip and drama of the day.

"We're discussing Soren's sexuality. Kyza and I vote gay, Heather here still isn't convinced he isn't a girl, Lyre thinks he might be asexual, and Boyd, who needs glasses apparently, thinks he is the epitome of heterosexuality," Ranulf said. Kyza gave a Boyd and affronted Ihow dare you/I look.

"I'm just sayin'," Boyd said.

"He's gaydar-blind, so he doesn't count," Ranulf said.

"I see," Ike said.

"So what's your vote, huh?" Ranulf asked.

"He is whatever he is," Ike said, and took a bite of the casserole.

"What exactly does that mean?" Lyre asked.

"It means that whatever he decides he to be, that's what he is," Ike said.

"It's almost like you're not caring about this juicy gossip," Ranulf said, twisting the pasta he'd snuck in via Kyza's interference from a local place.

"Funny, it's not like I've ignored juicy gossip ever before," Ike said.

"_Ha ha_," Ranulf said, and stuck out his tongue. "So you really don't care if Soren might secretly like dudes?"

"It's his business," Ike said.

"They always secretly like dudes," Heather said, huffily, as she gave Nephenee a pointed look. Nephenee was too focused on her orange juice to notice.

"Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?" Ranulf said, the beginnings of a trademark smirk. And for the moment, Soren's sexuality was forgotten and a whole new topic of juicy gossip was introduced.

Not for the first time, Ike was glad for Ranulf's short attention span.

**.**

Ike's locker was mostly empty, save for an ad for Outback Steakhouse which Ranulf had threatened to put up, and then finally had after Ike failed the _so which one would you do?_ test for the twentieth time. Ranulf had proclaimed him steaksexual then. He pulled out his books, and threw them into his backpack, about ready for the trek to the library. He was interrupted by a soft clearing of a throat.

"Ike," Elincia said. "I hope I'm not interrupting you."

"Oh. Hey," Ike said.

"Would you like to join my study group? One of the cheerleaders looked like she might be failing a class, and so we're banding together to support her."

"I'm not a cheerleader, though," Ike said.

"Ah, yes, but I thought you might enjoy it too." She smiled, bright and looked up at him with the hint of a blush.

"Sorry," Ike said. "I already have a study partner thing going on." He closed the locker.

"Hey Ike!" A voice broke through their conversation. Ranulf was running down the hall. "Your boyfriend is here looking for you!"

The last was several octaves harder than necessary, and everyone else who was mingling in the hallway turned to look. Had it been any other guy, their popularity would've been knocked to bottom rung, but Ike was beyond such silly games. The fact that he was pretty big and had broken ribs certainly helped.

"Next time I'll just call him," Soren grumbled. He gave Ranulf a dirty look, but Ranulf just grinned., cheeky as ever.

"That's my study partner," Ike said. And yet his gaze didn't return to her, for the moment Soren had appeared, he had been fixated on him.

"Where's Geoffrey?" She asked.

"Oh, you know. Polishing the old silver. Give him a minute," Ranulf said. He winked, and nudged Ike. "We're off to interrogate Juliet here. You wanna come too?"

"Oh..." Elincia said. "Well, if it isn't imposing."

"'course not. C'mon, it'll be fun. I bet you'll enjoy it plenty."

"Please," Elincia murmured. "I'm not vindictive."

"That's no fun," Ranulf said. "No catfights?"

Elincia cleared her throat politely. "Lyre and Kyza do enough of those for all of us."

Ranulf laughed. "True. They are the champs at that."

Soon they all convened into one of the empty classrooms. Kyza was there, at a laptop, and Sothe was in the back, listening to screamo.

Soren came only because of Ike–something he made very clear by his sullen response to them all. Sothe was in the back, being nihilistic today. He put up his feet and tried to outdo Soren's sullenness, but it would take a lot more than angsty music and clothes lifted from hot topic to get anywhere near Soren's sheer unpleasantness

"I got what you requested," Kyza said.

"Excellent," Ranulf said, tapping his fingers together.

"Gather around guys. Juliet here has some explaining to do."

The video in question was the last year's Sectionals. The Warblers preformed a smoky, dark and positively creepy rendition of Girl With One Eye. Soren had the solo. He had dark eye makeup, and frankly, he looked the part of someone willing to cut out eyes far too well.

They all were glued to the performance, but none more than Ike. His stare was intense. There were oohs, and ahs, and a few annoyed snorts from Sothe in the back, who was very loudly not caring in a fit of sullenness. When it finished, they were all silent for a moment, before Ranulf broke the silence.

"I'll get you a copy later, bro," Ranulf said.

"Cool. Thanks," Ike replied, his gaze still glued to the blank youtube window.

"Indeed. And the point of bringing me here was?" Soren said.

"I've looked, and the only time you've done solos was that once at Sectionals. The Warblers aced it, so what's up with that?" Ranulf said.

"I'm not an attention whore who demands every solo," Soren said. "The Warblers have some misguided system where every single person gets their chance at a solo. It simply coincided with the lead of that day getting Laryngitis."

"There's more to that. You've got talent to take it on like that. Unless you were lip syncing."

Soren glared at him.

"Prove it. We could have a singing contest."

"I'm not a dog who barks on command," Soren said.

"Sit. Stay," Ranulf said.

"This is inane–a farce," Soren muttered. He rolled his eyes, he moved to rise from his chair.

"Stay a while," Ranulf amended. "We could have a campfire tete-a-tete. Sing kumbaya and trade Glee club stories."

"It sounds like a waste of time, like every other time you open your mouth," Soren said.

"Ooh, burned!" Tormod said.

"You could learn more about Ike," Ranulf offered with a grin.

"The reason he joined Glee Club was because you found some harebrained scheme plan to bring him in," Soren said.

"Whoa, he told you?" Ranulf said.

"He didn't have to," Soren said.

Soren started to make his way to the door. Ike had been leaning there, and he reached out. Soren looked down where Ike held his arm, and frowned.

"I know he's a bit out there, and my friends are crazy, but I'd really appreciate it if you stayed a bit longer," Ike said.

"...Ten minutes, and only ten minutes," Soren said. He took a chair by the door as far away from everyone as possible.

"Ranulf started the whole thing by singing in the shower," Ike said.

"We were dueting,"Kyza said dreamily. "Diana Ross."

Lyre glared at Kyza and cursed the lack of coed showers under her breath.

"Sothe here joined because there's no shoplifting club, and so he could indulge in his secret love of showtunes."

Sothe gave him the finger and turned his screamo to eardrum destroying decibels.

"I'm guessing Heather joined for the same reason she does everything: getting tail."

Heather wasn't there to confirm or deny, presumably because she was sleeping with a cheerleader.

"Wherever you are, and whichever cheerleader's panties you're removing, girl, I'm fistbumping you," Ranulf said. He raised his fist to the ceiling.

The rest were simpler affairs. Elincia had been classically trained and had a very good range, and was about the next best thing to getting a heron on your Glee club roaster; Geoffrey and Lucia had also taken singing lessons, but more importantly, they always stuck close to Elincia's side. Nephenee figured any club that had a name like 'Glee' was worth joining, while Tormod had joined because his earlier hobby of setting off illegal fireworks behind CostCo had almost landed him in juvie. (And of course, because Sothe came along.)

None of this of course explained why Tibarn had foregone being in an extracurricular program.

"You know, I never did know why Tibarn picked this club up anyways," Ike said.

"I think it's nostalgia," Ranulf said. "He joined Glee club way back when to get into Reyson's pants. I hear he was competing with Naesala for Reyson back then. He won, but maybe he gets his kicks by serenading Reyson."

"Wait, isn't Naesala your teacher?" Ike asked.

"Yes. What of it?" Soren said.

"It's interesting, don't you think? Naesala taking a Glee club in a place like Dalton..." Ike said.

Soren snorted. "He was offered a sizeable sum and took it. There's nothing particularly noteworthy about it. Crows are fond of shiny things."

"Hey, no need to stereotype," Ranulf protested.

"It's a biological fact, not a stereotype," Soren said.

"Like cats liking catnip," Ike added.

Soren rose."More or less. As it is, your ten minutes are up."

Ike followed suit, nearly tripping on the chair on the way out.

"Hey, Dalton. You do know that you were here for twelve minutes, right?" Ranulf called back.

"Of course," Soren said. He was already half out the door. "It was all according to my plan."

The group looked to each other, one by one as the realization sunk in.

"I bet he has a death ray in his basement," Ranulf said.

"And a degree in horribleness?" Tormod prompted.

"Several," Ranulf said.

**.**

She could've gone to a private school. She had, in fact, been tutored, and cloistered away in a private manor for many years. But she wanted to meet her people, be they rich or poor. So she had taken a regular school, and never played up her heritage. She did not demand, or even expect special treatment from the rest of the students.

He played classical violin, but girls didn't want a guy like that. They didn't want a man who spoke perfect French and shined silver obsessively, who could arrange flowers and pull out chairs, who drank tea with one pinkie out.

Or he should say, _she_ didn't want a guy like that, because in the end, she was all who mattered. Ranulf's comfort of _there's plenty of other fish in the sea, if you know what I mean_ didn't sway him. It didn't matter if every other girl (save Lucia and Heather, of course) liked him. They weren't her, and that was all that mattered.

Tibarn had made an assignment for them to sing a song that bared their soul. How and why Geoffrey had come to listen to emo music was another story altogether, but this song touched him in. Hearing this song was like finding a friend who understood. He didn't sing so much as murmur out the words, soft and painful. The guitar was quiet, the pressure to his fingers a welcome pain.

"I'm starting to fashion and idea in my head where I would impress you, with every single word I said would come out insightful, or brave, or smooth or charming...and you wanna call me."

He paused on that line, stroking the guitar almost lovingly as he played on.

"And I would be there every time you needed me. I'd be there every time." These words were not sung, so much as spoken aloud, making the melody discordant. But then, there was no one to hear him. He paused, and thought of starting again, but instead he just cleared his throat and went on. It wasn't as if he were recording. He thought of standing there at the lockers while she looked up at him like he was everything her world needed. Seeing her smile like that made his chest feel tight.

He sang on.

"But for now I'll look so longingly. Wait for you to want me. For you to need me. For you to notice me..."


End file.
